Light We Cannot See
by LilithRisen
Summary: Seventeen year old Clary Fairchild Morgenstern wants to stab her brother and set all his annoying friends on fire. They play pranks on her, vandalise her drawings, and worse they touch her Doctor Who shrine. Her parents see Jonathan as the perfect child but they don't seem to notice his bad grades, arrest records, or immature notions about anything. OOC/AU/AH (temporary hiatus)
1. Mother Doesn't Always Know Best

_**Chapter 1**_

I understand that high school isn't suppose to be fun or easy but it just plain sucks. Between mean girls, jocks and nerd who are their own best friends. There's me. Honor roll, future valedictorian, artsy freak (colorfully nicknamed by Aline and Kealie), hacker, on the soccer and basketball team (it's impressive because I'm 5'6), I have too many best friends, my parents should be getting divorced, and I have never done drugs or drank an excessive amount of alcohol.

I'm a redhead, I would call it orange but whatever, with emerald green eyes as big as plates. The kind used by senators at state dinners. My skin is the color of cream cheese and if I put a drop of makeup on I would look like a prostitute. I hate my genetics. Thanks mom and dad.

"Clarissa Adele Fairchild Morgenstern! Get out of bed and come down here now!" Ah, the wonderful voice of my loving banshee of a mother. "Jonathan Christopher Fairchild Morgenstern!" I could hear mom yelling to my brother in the next room.

Getting up I run my fingers through my tangled hair. They get stuck several times and I have to use my other hand to undo the knots. I glance at the clock, almost six. Enough time for a shower, I think. I usually have the bathroom all to myself but John's bathroom is undergoing repairs so I have to share.

It was like he purposely took an hour doing his hair. It wasn't like anyone cared. Okay, every hot girl cared but I didn't. My big brother had all the fame in the school. Captain of the football, basketball, and soccer team, class president, and he was dating the head cheerleader. Classic popular guy. I hate him so much when we are at school, I hate him so much anywhere.

I cross the floor of my room and as I pass the king sized, pillow top bed I stub my toe. Does anything hurt more than stubbing your toe? I clutch my foot and jump around the carpeted floor. Muttering curses that would make a sailor proud I dragged my aching body into the shower.

The hot water relaxed my muscles but my mind was still flipping a considerable amount of shit over the biology test I had in two hours. Magnus, my best friends brothers fashion designer of a boyfriend, (that made my head hurt) gave me a conditioner that tamed the wild nest on top of my head.

After I was dressed and fed, thanks mom, I headed out. Before my foot could even hit the snow outside, mom started ranting about how dangerous it was to drive my motorcycle through the ice and snow. Normally I would agree with her but there was less than an inch of either outside.

"Honey maybe you should ride with your brother. He's picking up his friends but I can make him come back. I just don't think it's safe for you to be on that thing! Why you couldn't get a car like a normal teenager is beyond me." Did I forget to mention that my father was a prosecutor for the FBI? That man made enough money to support two kids, a four story mansion, and donate a quarter to charity.

This is the part where you wonder why in a house that big I needed to share my bathroom, when John turned eighteen and I turned seventeen our parents thought we needed space so they gave us the fourth floor. The only people who ever go up there are John, me, the cook, and two cleaning ladies. It's like having an apartment without having to pay the rent or dealing with annoying neighbors. I take that back, John and his friends were worse than annoying.

"Mom, there's literally less than an inch of snow and I don't want to have John come back. Especially with his annoying friends. They act like they're on every drug known to man, for all we know they probably are." Jocelyn rose her eyebrows and signed loudly. She was disapproving of me even thinking of John using any drugs. Not like I haven't seen him high and drunk before. Every party he drags me to I end up dragging him and his moron friends back to the car and driving them home.

"Drive safely." Looking at the clock I knew why she gave in so easily. John was probably already at school and she didn't want her darling boy to be late because his irresponsible sister was driving a motorcycle instead of the porsche her dad wanted to buy her. This happened every morning.

Good news! I didn't die on the way to school. Bad news, John and his band of idiots were leaning against his car, staring right at me. Looking at John and me, you wouldn't be able to tell we were related. His white hair and obsidian eyes don't exactly match my scottish princess look.

I swing my leg over my kawasaki ninja. The combat boots I'm rocking this morning, splash the small puddle that formed under the front tire. When I take my helmet off I imagine the slow motion in movies where the girls hair flips and the badass music plays in the background. But in reality my hair is static and sticking to my face while the face I make looks like a seal on crack.

The guys were still staring at me after I packed away my helmet and strapped my messenger bag to me shoulder. Sadly I have to pass them to go into the building. I muster the courage to do it. I know they're going to bitch at me because I know mom call him. Mom always blames me for anything he does and she blames him for everything I do, most people would think that would balance out, but it doesn't.

John, Alec, Jace, Raphael, Jordan, Sebastian, and Magnus. I know Alec and Magnus won't care in the slightest about yelling at me, they're actually pretty nice guys. Raphael, Jordan, and Sebastian won't get involved much but they will laugh. Then there's Jace and John, I hate them. They make fun of everything and they are never apart. It's like they're attached.

"Well look who drove by." John was preparing his frontal assault. I wasn't about to fall for that. I tried walking past him but he blocked my way. "Mom called, she said you were trying to get yourself killed."

"Like any of you would actually care." I slam my shoulder against his chest and take off towards the building. It was true, dad was always at work and you know mom.

The soles of my boots crunched frozen leaves. I was wearing dark washed jeans and a black t-shirt so mud was not an issue. I just hope Isabelle didn't see me walking through the mud, she would have a heart attack. Simon and Maia were more chil. But then again they didn't wear black, hand stitched, designer, leather boots like Izzy.

If she was forced to sacrifice something for her soul she would rather sacrifice Alec than those boots. That should tell you how much she loved them. For some reason Isabelle became terrified anytime I got remotely dirty but when Maia did it she disapproved but didn't say anything. Ugh, best friends.

I heard a loud cough behind me and I knew. Simon was looking down at the muddy footstep I had just made onto the tiled outer hall. He looked up and shook his head, baffled.

"Izzy is going to kill you." He was right, one look and my head would be rolling on the outdated purple tiles. Remember, if I die, it was no accident! I smile cooly at him. If I am going to die, I'm not going out scared of getting stabbed with a heel in the gut. That's how Izzy would do it, live by the heel, die by the heel.

* * *

_**I had plenty of ideas about stories to write and I couldn't decide which one to post so...**_

_**I posted all 4 of them, well the first chapter of each...**_

_**Kings Redemption**_

_**Child of Light**_

_**Light We Cannot See**_

_**Beautiful Nightmares**_

**_It would honestly mean the world to me if you guys checked them out and reviewed/followed/favorited your favorite out of all them, e_****_ven more than one, or all of them, I'm cool with that too..._**

**_I love you guys!_**


	2. Tires Anybody?

_**Disclaimer: I don't own the Mortal Instruments**_

_**Chapter 2**_

Graduating school early doesn't seem like such a great thing when you have to study with Jonathan and his annoying friends. They are a bunch of losers who are wasting their lives partying all week with druggies, alcoholics, and whores. It's absolutely disgusting. Especially since all their horrific parties happen at my house, on my floor, within my presents. They seemed to only enjoy having fun when I have a test I really need to study for.

I'm trudging my way through the crowded halls. I see four different couples making out against lockers, I can practically feel my 'about to be sick' face. Seriously, they may think they look like the cover of a romance novel but they actually look like two seals fighting over a ball. In this case the 'ball' is tongue space. Sadly that tongue space is outside of their mouths. Good God, I don't want to see that. Is his hand down her pants? This is a hallway, do that in private.

As if life was trying to smack me in the face my Calculus class came into view. I sigh in defeat. My arm was falling asleep from the three pound turquoise book I had to carry everyday to Mr. W's class. When will I use the quadratic formula in my life? To make it even worse Mr. Wayland made us listen to a damn song about it. The quadratic formula is -b b₂-4ac all divided by 2a. When the hell am I going to use that bullshit in life? I know that's the most asked question anyone who hates math says but it's true. What really bothers me about math is that I have so many of Jonathan's jackass friends in there.

Raphael, Jordan, and Sebastian. I'll admit I could do a lot worse. I could have Alec and Magnus shoving their tongues lovingly down their throats, oh wait, that's english. Or Jace and John shamelessly checking girls out and yelling cat calls to them while they blush profusely, ah the joys of physical education. My only enjoyable classes of the day are art, science, and history. Simon, Isabelle, and Maia were in those wonderful hours. Of course art isn't as peaceful as I'd like because Jace is in there too. He gives no effort to anything we are assigned to.

My classes were my kryptonite. Ninety minutes of my precious life. My schedule was a nightmare. Calculus, Science, Social Studies (why they don't just call it history, I don't know), English, Physical Education, art and after school I had practice then volunteering at the Children's Hospital. Then after the three hours of labor at the hospital I make my way to whatever homework was assigned. All and all a hectic day. Every day. I could cut back on my hours at the hospital and spent more time on my studies so I could sleep a normal amount of time a night but I don't like being home. Jonathan usually gets home late, if at all, mom and dad are always gone somewhere and when they are home, they pay little to no attention to me. If someone hacked me up to pieces on the kitchen floor the only thing my mother would care for is her precious tiles.

Worse part about all of it is that no matter how much effort I put into everything I do my parents still treat Jonathan like an angel and me like a pair of second hand trousers. My parents were old fashioned which means, as the eldest child, Jonathan gets the entire family fortune and I get nothing. He makes barely passing grades and when he brings home a C test, mom gives him a hug and makes him cookies. When I bring home championship trophies, perfect grade cards, and make it into an art gallery my parents don't even notice. I broke my arm, once, at a soccer game. My brother was at a party and didn't even notice I was gone, my parents were away and I spent an entire night in the hospital. Isabelle, Maia and Simon came to see me but since they weren't considered family they weren't allowed to stay the night. My _family_ still didn't know.

This weekend, Jonathan convinced our parents that he needed the house for a study group so they went off to a marridal retreat. Last night I'd heard Jonathan talking to the Queen B's about the _totally awesome_ party he was having this weekend. I felt like gagging at the spot, Jonathan tried to get me to spend the night at Isabelles so I couldn't tell our parents but I refused dead point. Yes, I would love some peace and quiet but I can't let the party get out of control and break something, again. Just when I began thinking of sabotage ideas I hear my phone ring.

I quicken my pace and stop at the lockers in front of the classroom. I pull out the screeching device and slide the answer option. Mom's voice blows a hole in my eardrums as she screams her auburn locks off. I could almost picture her ripping her hair out.

"Did you have to call Jonathan for a ride? Were you two late to class? Clarissa, if I've told you once, I've told you a thousand times, your brother is concerned with his academic career and the family would appreciate it if you didn't make it a joke." When my mom used the term 'the family' she meant it as a threat but I know that Jonathan could give a rats ass about his 'academic career'. He doesn't need a career, when he turns twenty-one he will officially be a millionaire, he would never have to work a day in his life.

"Mom! Relax, I didn't have to call Jonathan anywhere he got here way before me and he's still hanging out with his friends in the parking lot, hitting on unsuspecting females and purposefully being late for class. So don't blame me." Maybe I went to far when I hear a familiar clicking of heels walking on the marble I know I had. Mom only paced when she was angry or frustrated. When talking to me, she was both.

"Clarissa, your father and I know that sometimes it may seem like we show more affection towards Jonathan rather than you but that is no excuse to make outrageous accusations against your brother." Moms pacing was vibrating through my nerves. I don't remember a day in my life when my parents showed any attention towards me. Not when I had chicken pox in sixth grade, not when she started her period or thought about boys. She had to google everything because her mother never noticed that she had a daughter.

"I'm not making accusations!" Mom's stepps came to a halt. "I'm going to be late for class if I don't go right now."

"Your father and I are leaving for our weekend away before you come home but we will have a serious talk about lying when I get home, young lady." There was a click at the other end of the phone and I knew my mom was gone. She always took his side. Maybe I'm a little bitter but having your parents blame you for everything that ever happens puts you at a disadvantage.

I felt a prickle at my throat and I thought about the consequences that would come from getting on my motorcycle and driving away. My mom would probably find a way to blame me on her missing her vacation because I was being irresponsible and selfish. I might as well go into class I'll deal with my emotional instabilities later.

Calculus was actually fun. How many people, who aren't high, have you heard say that? I was right Jonathan and his clique had decided to skip today. There was no sign of Raphael, Sebastian or Jordan in my class or any of his other annoying people in the halls. Now that I think about it the day was very pleasant, I could imagine everyday being this calm. But as apparent as my happiness was to everyone it would come to an abrupt halt the second I stepped foot close to my motorcycle at the end of the day.

Someone had removed the front and back tires of my beautiful ninja. Not just any someone, Jonathan, he had even left a note stuck tightly with tape on the left rear view mirror. _Meet me after my practice, XOXO Jon :)_ Smiley face? I will rip his face off. He touched my bike! MY BIKE! Alarms were blaring in my head, they were screaming DEAD MAN WALKING.

I want to say I walked calmly and ladylike to the locker rooms to change since the only way you're allowed on the field is for practice but I'm going to admit that I pushed and kicked my way over. People were moving out of the way faster than when they heard the football team was practicing shirtless last week. I slammed the door behind me and Isabelle jumped from her locker, clearly not expecting to see me here. She was half done changing for her cheerleading practice but she stopped and looked at me expectantly.

"What's wrong?" She sat down on the cemented bench type of thing that was holding the lockers up from the ground. Burying my face in my hands I could hear my mom's voice, "Jonathan would never do that, it was probably your fault anyways."

"Jonathan messed with my bike. Can I borrow some of your clothes I don't have any with me." I'd taken all my practice clothes home yesterday since I didn't want to smell like a smoked sweat sandwich while at practice and since today I had no practice I hadn't brought them to the school and wasn't going to until tomorrow. Now I'm wishing I had brought them.

"I don't have any extras but you know Maureen's combination. She won't mind if you borrow it for a minute or two." I nodded and headed over to the opposite locker from Izzy. Maureen was smaller than me but I figure her clothes would do for the time it would take me to stab John and hide his body where no one will ever find it again.

They did fit me, however, they were like another skin. The shorts were barely longer than my black boyshorts and her tank top was so tight I felt like my breasts were three times their normal B status. Luckily, I don't wear heels or any of than girly crap so my converse passed the locker room door with me. My hair looked horrid so Isabelle helped me mold it into a fishtail braid down to a little under my shoulder blades. If this was a movie, this would be the scene that the guy would find out the nerdy girl was extremely attractive without her glasses but I don't wear glasses so I guess I'm halfway there already.

I didn't even bother hiding my intent to walk over to the football court and place their football somewhere unpleasant in John's personal space. The coach gave me a weird look but let it pass when I didn't even slow my pace to meet her grey eyes. I just kept walking. The millisecond my feet hit the field every player turned towards me. Usually this would bother me but right now I was angry. Angry that John had messed with my bike, that our parents obviously cared for him more, that I was always going to be in his shadow, and I was even angry at Mr. Wayland for assigning homework. Fuck the world, I am mad at everything right now. You do not fuck with a girls bike. It's like messing with a mothers baby, you just don't do that.

A few players walked over to where she was trudging towards jersey number 23. Jonathan Christopher Morgenstern. Jersey number 36 stepped in her way. Currently not the best decision he could have made. The unknown player slowly took off his helmet, it was Jordan.

"Woah, relax I don't bite." He held his hands out in mock surrender, trying to calm the wild animal I no doubt resembled in my state, I dig my nails into my hips to keep from scratching his eyes out. He was Jonathan's friend which made him my enemy. Today is not a good day to be my enemy.

"Yes because the first thing I think when I see someone is 'oh shit this person is going to bite me'. Get your head out of your ass, Jordan." I could hear a few 'oohs' coming from the guys as I pushed my way through to #23.

"Clary, what are you doing here?" Jonathan took his helmet off and someone's slow brain finally clicked all the pieces into the, no doubt, huge puzzle and realized I was John's sister. I heard whispers of 'that's his sister?' and 'damn, she's hot'. I was too angry to appreciate the compliments.

"Hunting for elephants. What the fuck do you think?" John doesn't react for a few drowned out moments but a grin finally spreads across his face. The son of a bitch was enjoying this?! "Where are my fucking tires?!"

People started parting and I could hear a new set of foot steps. Judging by the team's reaction it must be someone important because suddenly the air was charged with more than my anger but a bitter tasting fear. I looked up at the tall man, his arms were like a pair of baby heads, and he looked terrifying. I remember a few days ago I overheard Jonathan talking with with one of his moronic friends about their new football coach, they called him Irons because he was as tough as nails.

He looked down at my small frame and crossed his meaty arms over his broad chest. I would have been scared out of my wits too if it wasn't for the biting anguishing thought of my baby suffering without her tires.

"This is no place for you, young lady." The man's voice was as horrific as Jonathan had described it to whoever he was with. "Football is of no concern to you, is it?" I could tell by his face that he was used to scaring people away from him. Judging by the shrinking figures around me I could tell this guy had fun scaring the shit out of his players.

"I'm afraid it does concern me." A few surprised gasps rang through the gathered football crowd. "I'm Mr. Morgenstern's tutor and he has failed a very important exam in Biomedical Science and he has failed the class." The man looked completely confused with my rouse. "He has a failing grade in a core class which, sadly, means he cannot be allowed to play until he gets his grade up. Of course you understand, this is a place of education and not simply of playing sports." He seemed to consider his opponent, me. I stared him down with the coldest glare I could muster in this absurd situation. Jonathan would kill me after this. "As a well progressed man I know you can see the position I'm in."

"Yes, Miss, I understand." He looked up to John and shook his head. "Morgenstern go change, you're out. Verlac! You're covering for him tonight." Irons seemed to adopt an expression of respect when he looked at me again. "Have a nice day, Miss." I smiled and Irons walked back to the water cooler.

I turned back towards Jonathan, this time my snake type smile was genuinely meant for him. He looked like he was going to be sick, right there on the field. Luckily for me someone slung his arm over his shoulder and began leading him towards the men's locker room. I look around and set my eyes on Jordan.

"Kyle, my tires." He looked around, panicking. "Jordan, I could easily convince Irons over there that you failed something too. Show me my tires or you're out for the season, just like Jonathan." He was visibly sweating now. He nodded and quickly told me where my baby's tires are. I didn't really want to be petty enough to do that to Jonathan but now he knows I mean business. He knows I can get him back in the game in ten minutes but let's face it I'm not doing it until he apologizes. You know what, stop judging me, he deserved it. I couldn't wait until he told mom and dad about this, they would be so disappointed with my lack of respect towards my superiors. I know that because they always say that when Jonathan gets in trouble and blames me for it.

~o.O.o~

Jace P.O.V.

Damn. The spoiled little brat actually had a pretty hot body. I have never seen that much of her legs. The most I've seen was a flower dress when she was ten and even then she had black leggings on. Don't get me wrong she is a horrible human being, rude, aggressive, a smartass, she never laughed, but I would definitely do her. Not that Jonathan would really mind, he may be awkward about it for a little while but he had tried to sleep with three of my cousins and succeeded with two of them so as far as I was concerned his sister was fair game.

The only problem with my genius plan is that I would need to have that know it all drunk enough to be open to the idea but not enough to pass out before anything actually happens. I sound like such a creep. Plus she may shut up for once if she's drunk. Making plans like this was hurting my head. Clary has been causing my migraines since she was six and this isn't the first time she's done it without her presents. The girl had a gift. A very annoying gift that made me want to spoon out her shamrock eyes every time she spoke.

Sometimes I wonder how her friends put up with her. Rat-face I understand, he can't get anything better. It's the cheerleaders and hot girls I'm curious about. Isabelle, Maia, and Seelie were way too hot to be hanging out with a ginger haired, leprechaun that wore shirts three sizes too big and they always had strange band logos that I'd never heard of or anime characters. That best friend of hers was no better, he wore glasses on his thin, overly pale nose and had noodle arms. But when I'd seen her walking towards the field, in that outfit, I swear I became a cartoon character and my eyes bulged out of my head. The way she handed Irons his ass was a huge turn on too.

I was snapped out of my daydream of ripping those revealing shorts off of her and pinning her under me on a table by Jonathan closing his locker with the same force used to move elephants. I suddenly find myself wishing Alec was here, he would be the most help. Magnus would tell him to cheer up and chuck glitter at him, Raphael would just talk about how his current girlfriend is hot, Jordan would talk it out with him, Sebastian would let him punch things. I hear the door creak and my hopes go out to Jordan and Alec. Please be one of them.

The truth is I am probably more useless in this situation than a rainbow colored unicorn shitting out bunnies. Unless that's some weird fetish John has, I wouldn't know. My prayers have been answered as Alec's raven head bobs it's way around the lockers. Alec is gay and I could care less. He's my best friend and if he's happy, I'm happy. His outfit was definitely picked out by Magnus, his boyfriend. Black skinny jeans, white t-shirt, hair styled and stray purple glitter has been sprayed in it. I theorize it's from a make out session.

I aim to make my escape as quickly as possible. Johns face is the color of his sisters hair. It means one of two things, he will throw up or punch the first person he focuses on. I don't feel like being here for either. Alec opens his mouth to speak but I cut him off with a wave of my hand.

"Goodluck, Lightwood." I quickly jog my way out into the hot sun. There's some snow and ice covering the ground gently but I'm sweating bullets and it feels like a million degrees out here. I feel like that kid in camp that never took his jacket off even when it was like 102 degrees fahrenheit outside.

Idris High School is the most expensive school that anyone could get into to, with the right grades of course. We have senators children, sixteen year old genius graduates, the spawns of lawyers, doctors, actors and anything inbetween. My parents are both successful business people. My father owns several companies overseas in America and my moms headquarters is in the greatest place in the world. The United Kingdom. Someday their empires are going to be completely mine and my children will own these halls, like their old man.

But for that to happen I would have to get old and that's not happening. I will remain young and beautiful, the dream of every woman, out of reach but in sight. It would be amazing. I was so wrapped up in my head that I didn't see the small childlike figure run straight into my chest. The assaulter stumbles back and when I think she's steadied herself she slides down the beige lockers and hold her nose.

"Do you pack rocks in your shirts?!" I cross my arms over my chest and grin down at her. "A little help, jerk!" I make a show of thinking it over then reaching out my arm to her. Clary grasps it tightly and I pull her up. "Thanks." She drops my hand like it was the most disgusting thing she'd ever felt.

I would be slightly offended but she was no picnic herself. My eyes drop slowly over her still exposed skin. Her legs are covered in taut muscles and, to her credit, her skin isn't actually milky white on her legs. She must do some serious workouts with shorts of this sort to get those tan lines. I make a mental note to find out later. Her jeans and t-shirt are still on the floor. Clary bends down to pick them up and I have to bite down on my knuckles to keep from saying something that will get me slapped. Like I said, hot body.

"You're still wearing those provocative clothes, are you coming on to me?" I take a deliberate step towards her. She snaps back up and her face is dangerously close to mine. I'm strangely entertained by how she will react from this point on. She takes a deep breath and instead of backing away and making a snarky remark she gets closer.

She bites her bottom lip and I hate to admit it but it looks sexy when she does it. Her eyes travel excruciatingly slowly from my eyes to my lips. She bats her eyelashes and steps a millimeter closer to me. I've stopped breathing without realizing. It's not like one of those movies or books where you fall in love with the ugly girl after she takes her glasses off and you find out she's gorgeous. Clary doesn't wear glasses. It's more like, what if it sucks? What if she uses too much tongue? Or not enough?

Her eyes are glued on mine with industrial super glue. She's not giving anything away and she swipes her tongue between her lips. It was hot when taller, hotter girls did it but when Clary did it, it was like a Victoria's Secret runway show hot. Strangely enough her size wasn't so excessively unattractive anymore. It wasn't like when the girl was freakishly the same height, especially in heels.

I can tell she's on the tip of her toes. Her hands are pressed against my chest. Her mouth grazes my cheek and I want to snake my arms around her waist but resist the temptation for just a little while, I want to know what she's going to do.

"You wish." She drops the seduction act and steps with a venomous smile. She throws her jeans over her shoulder and walks away, swaying her hips, unintentionally I think. I'm pretty sure there's a new light around that girl from where I'm standing.

~o.O.o~

Even though technically she didn't so much as turn me on as flash on every light inside my body then take a baseball bat and bust them all, the guys think it's a sign. A sign that if I don't fuck her senselessly, and soon, she will always have some sort of supernatural power over me. I, personally, think it's absolute bullshit but if involves me fucking an attractive girl I'm in. Both figuratively and literally.

I haven't seen Clary since the incident at school. She has been plaguing my mind and I can't seem to focus on preparing for the party. We haven't had a party here since last year, Mr. and Mrs. Morgenstern walked in and even though they didn't punish John they began keeping a closer eye on us when we visited. This is the first weekend when we are 100% sure they won't be here.

John says they've been having marital problems and that he's sent them to marriage boot camp. They aren't allowed to leave unless there's a family death or something along that serious line. John says Clary's friend, whatever her name was, the hot one, was forcing Clary to attend. This caused a predicament for me. There were going to be a lot of hotter girls from school here, but the guys' warning rang back through my head. If I didn't make her my slave, I would become hers. I could hear muffled steps and laughter coming from Clary's room. John said it was mostly because Isabelle was already here, working on Clary. The rest of the decorating phase consisted of us giving up and sending John and his fake ID to buy alcohol.

~o.O.o~

People started filing in around 8pm and it was getting loud. Screaming, dropped vases, radios on the highest volume. Thank the lord that the Morgensterns owned a plot of land as big as LAX airport. There was no one around for miles. This may have just been their vacation home but it was nice. We were planning on having the party at their actual house but then the staff arrived and John knew they would blab to his parents.

Hey, now we have an entire house, with several bedrooms. I am so happy this is a four day weekend. Saturday, Sunday, Monday, and Tuesday. We've decided to just spend the rest of the weekend peacefully here after the party. Well not all of us. Alec and Magnus are leaving us. For the better, they would just lock themselves in their bedroom.

Clary, Isabelle, me, John, Sebastian, Jordan, and Clary's friend Maia are staying here. This should be a hell of a weekend. I'm certainly excited. I pass a couple making out against the wall, John and some girl look comfortable. I slip past them looking for some fresh meat.

I glance at half naked, drunk girls pressing themselves shamelessly into guys they probably didn't even know. There are abandoned glass bottles all over the floor. Ahead of me there is a tight black dress wrapped around a slim dancing body. The lights are flickering and I can't tell much about my target. I creep behind her and grip her hips until I'm sure she notices me. I keep my voice low and husky. I know I won't get rejected, that only happens if the girl is very loyal to her boyfriend.

"Upstairs. First bedroom to your left. Five minutes." Her hair was brushed to one side of her head and my senses were plunged into the sent. Strawberries and roses. I feel her nod and let go. My prey isn't far behind me. I can hear her stumbling up the steps. She must be a little tipsy. I may sound like a total predator but that's how I like my party hookups.

I go into the bedroom and I'm hoping she isn't a person that throws up when they are drunk, that would be disgusting. The lights are dim but I can see her shadow underneath the door. I kick my converse off my feet and lean against the door. The door opens and I expect a voice to call out but it doesn't come. Instead I feel someone pull me from the wall and throw me on the bed.

She is strong for a girl. It's a turn on. Then there's a weight on my chest, she's straddling me. I smell strawberries and I know I have the right girl. She grasps my hands and pins them to my sides, I can easily free myself but it's all a power play for her. She's taking charge and I like it. Suddenly she's holding both of my hands in one of hers. Then buttons on my shirt are ripped off with her hand.

She begins kissing my neck and I try to glimpse her face. I'm hoping she isn't an ogre. There's a slight nipping at my neck and I can't help a low groan. She starts laughing, that was the last thing I expected. She releases my hands and shifts. The night stand is bathe in golden light.

"You're too easy, Herondale." Clary is grinning above me. The black dress has been hiked up above her thighs and she's still resting her hands on my chest, still straddling me.

I lift myself on my elbows and she is propelled up with me but doesn't get up. She looks like a girl. I'm so used to her looking like a nerd that I was shocked when I saw her legs yesterday, right now you can clearly see more of them and she has breasts. That aren't hidden by baggy clothes. She is no longer laughing, she's noticing the road my eyes were travelling. There's a row of gold buttons on the left side of her black dress. I believe that those buttons are the only thing keeping this dress on her.

I didn't think and before I knew it, I was lightly fingering the closest button, it rested on her upper thigh. My thumb slowly grazed the smooth skin and I start rubbing slow circles. Her breath hitches and I know I have her right where I want her. The first button releases and my fingers cast a hot trail up her leg. Clary's eyes widen, betraying her and I know she's going to try and escape. Grabbing her waist, I flip us over. Her legs are still tightly locked around my hips and I hear her gasp. I glance at the door. She locked it, I'm grateful. She's going to tease me? Who's winning now?

"Tables have turned, Morgenstern." My hands are comfortably resting on either side of her head. Her hair is brushing my left hand when she turns her head. "What's the little minx going to do now?"

* * *

**_OKAY, OKAY, BEFORE ALL OF YOU COME INTO MY HOUSE WITH TORCHES- I just got a new couch so you mind burning me alive outside?_**

**_This doesn't mean the hiatus on this story is over, it just means I'm weak and can't help it when people review. Review=update._**

**_For the record, none of my hiatus stories are on it permanently, I swear, I will finish them all. Even if it kills me. Which it probably will. Or some of you will get too angry to wait anymore and kill me. Either way, look at the top of this note._**


	3. Frozen

_**I don't own the Mortal Instruments, but I would give up a leg to have that kind of talent.**_

_**Chapter 3**_

_**Frozen**_

_**Clary POV**_

I'll admit it's been fun messing with my brothers whoring best friend but being pinned under him doesn't feel as disgusting as I thought it would. Not that I spend much time considering it. He's warm and hard muscles shines through his shirt. I had apparently ripped the second button off his baby blue button up when I was teasing him. The thing is, when he had stalked behind me and whispered those dirty things in my ear I had no intention of coming up here but Isabelle convinced me. She told me it would be fun to mess with him and as his sister she thought he deserved to be _frustrated_.

You know how in books the heroine has some sort of intimacy issue and they're a blushing virgin but all problems are magically solved once her main love interest gets close to her and she has trouble thinking and breathing properly? I'm not exactly in need of oxygen or help processing information. I can think perfectly fine. Except those pesky times when my eyes involuntarily drop down to his mouth and my own goes drier than the Sahara. It's not exactly a secret that the guy is hotter than all hell but there's a difference in the way you feel when you can feel his breath stirring your eyelashes.

I feel scornful towards Isabelle for forcing this tight nightmare on me. The skimpy dress, second skin monster, has ridden up to the point where you could clearly see my underwear. It bothers me even more when his hands are gripping my thighs and pushing the dress further up. I don't feel maltreated or anything and that bothers me. I should be pushing him off me and running away, but _noo_ I choose to just sit here, hypnotized by the slow movement of his fingers. I don't feel the buttons pop open until Jace's hand is above my hip. _Woah, cowboy_.

I don't know how much Jace has had to drink tonight but I can smell it on his breath and I'm strongly regretting coming up here. He leans in impossibly closer to me and the grip he has on me tightens, I'm certain his nails have pierced the delicate skin. A gasp breaks through my gritted teeth. Sure making out with Jace on my vacation bed would be completely under the 'okay' column, however, he's pressing his luck for anything more and he smells like he had a total of a keg in alcohol.

I push against his chest with my hands, he moves a fraction of an inch. There's a dangerous glint in his eyes, like a lion who finally caught his evasive prey, I feel unsure of the darkening of his iris' as he looks at me. On one hand it's endearing having him look at me like that, but on the other, how many girls have been on the receiving end? His hand releases my thigh and he grasps my wrists and holds them above my head.

This is when the reality of the moment sinks in completely. He's either going to go through with having sex with someone who will not help his cause or he is going to burst out laughing and tell me it's a joke. Judging by the way his eyes are lustfully devouring any available ribbon of skin, I'm doubting the latter. Would it be considered rape? I did follow him up here, straddle him and rip his shirt and kiss his neck, and… okay, it wouldn't be the worst thing to happen.

He makes a move to kiss me but I turn away at the right time and he misses his mark, my lips. He settles for my neck, assaulting it with drunken kisses. I squirm under him but he seems to take it as a sign that I was grinding against him and he makes a low growl in the back of his throat. Is this turning him on? Because it's kind of turning me on. By kind of I mean if he ran his hand down my center it would come away like he just went swimming. God, how horrible does that make me sound?

I've always seen Jace as just one of my brother's best friends and I always thought Jace saw me as just his best friends annoying little sister. If Jonathan knew how his so called best friend was practically suffocating his little sister under him, I don't think he would be particularly happy. Actually, I don't think he would mind. Shouldn't big brothers be overprotective?

Jace Jr. was just as pressed against my thigh just as his bigger counterpart. As much as I hated to think it, it hurt more to realize I'm feeling completely turned on by him. Jace was still peppering aggressively soft kisses on any piece of skin he saw. How could kisses be so soft but applied so aggressively? He tentatively bit down on the small area under my ear and I bit my lip to stop an interesting progression from going on. That had felt pleasurable. If I gave away any hint that I had enjoyed that, he would take that as a green light.

Worse part, I was actually thinking about giving him the go ahead.

It wasn't like I was some poor virgin who'd never felt anything like this. In fact, I had just broken up with my boyfriend a little less than a month ago. Eric, sweet guy, but definitely not my type. He was the touchy feely type of boyfriend that wanted us to be in a somewhat of a serious relationship before having sex and I was a teenage girl with raging hormones and a nasty habit of not knowing of when to back away from the angry animals. Not to mention I had just become sexually active and he shut me down, not to mention he had no sex appeal.

Eric, Kirk, and Simon started a band after I broke up with him so I wasn't too keen on explaining to Simon why I wasn't going to any of his practices. To be honest, I always felt like Simon had a crush on Isabelle and only wanted me there to drag Iz with me. Smooth, right? Didn't think so. Izzy wasn't a cold hearted bitch like people at school gossiped, she just doesn't like getting close to people because they end up hurting her.  
I can't exactly blame her for that. Izzy and I haven't exactly had the best of dating relationships. Most of the guys that wanted to go out with us wanted to get laid and that's it and the other half were nerds who were giant chickens. Simon, cough, cough, cough.

I had totally distracted myself from Jace and the problematic situation I found myself in. If it was even possible Jace was smothering me down into the mattress even more. The air in the room was thick and my head was swimming in very inappropriate thoughts. He smelled like green apples and mint chocolate. If sunshine had a smell, he would smell like it too. It was hypnotic, the scent was intoxicating.

Jace's body was grinding with mine and his hands were sliding over me gingerly. What made me lose it was when Jace began making out with my chest, leaving open mouthed kisses on my upper breasts. I tried to keep my lips sealed but a soft whimper escaped them anyway.

Jace's head snapped up at the sound and his signature smirk occupied his lips. His eyes were completely sober, which disproved my drunk theory effective immediately. My eyes were staring his down with little effect. I wanted him to do that again. Time Lords of Gallifrey, what is wrong with me? Am I really this desperate for affection?

"What do you want?" His voice cut through the silence. Husky and alive. I was afraid if I tried to talk my voice would be raspy, that it would betray how much I wanted him right now. I am a sick, sick person. Not only did I purposefully turn him on repeatedly but I knowingly followed him up here and ripped his shirt open. Isabelle would be so proud. I could only imagine the looks I would get if I gave a shit.

"You," His eyebrows rose at my response. He bent down to my mouth and just when his lips were going to connect with mine I broke the perfect picture he had formed in his mind. "To get the hell off of me." My lips ghost over his as I spoke. Jace didn't look convinced.

"I don't think you mean that. I won't force you into anything you don't want to do." Jace released my hands and used his palms to lift himself above me. "You want me? Pull. You want to leave? Push. It's that simple." His voice was so breathy and I could still smell the apples on his breath, I wanted to taste it.

I looked down, thinking, how had my legs ended up around his hips?

What the hell is happening to me? My head is light and I can't control my hands. Am I _petting_ him? What is this? Jace closes his eyes and leans into my hand. My fingers run through his hair and it's as silky soft as it looked.

"Please don't tease me, Angel." He turns his head and squeezes my hand with his, he slowly kisses my palm. Tingles run up my arm and into my chest. "I don't think I can stop touching you." What if he's a bad kisser? That's unlikely. What if he thinks I'm a shitty kisser? What if we have no chemistry and it's just sloppy and saliva-filled? I don't think I could survive that. It would be so embarrassing having to face Jace after something like that. Especially since he'd never let me live it down.

Hell, I won't let me live it down.

Jace is still holding my hand when he leans in. In excruciating slow motion his nose runs along my jawline, every so often, pressing his lips softly to my face. Jace bit down on the delicate spot behind my ear and I, like the giant creeper that I am, moan. Not a loud, he just hit the spot, moan but a please-do-me-to-next-month moan. I would expect Jace to laugh or flash me that smug grin. But instead he froze, I was sure he would pull away but he buried his face into my shoulder.

"Please." He growled out the words like he was in pain. "I'll do anything. Let me make you sound like that again." Jace was a one and done kind of guy, right? And I've been on dry land since sweet, no sex appeal Eric. If Jace and I went through with this we wouldn't have a problem. Jace wouldn't be attracted to me anymore after he gets what he wants and I get to have hot sex with a very gorgeous man. It's a win-win.

"Anything?" Jace looked at me for a moment before nodding. "Tell me you won't call me or try to make this into something it's not. Tell me you won't turn around and brag to your friends that you got in my pants."

"I won't call you and I won't tell anyone I slept with you. I promise." I didn't wait for him to change his mind. I know he's going to tell his friends, my brother, there's no doubt in my mind. But when he told me he wouldn't I wanted to believe him. I believed him when he said he wasn't going to call, so why couldn't I believe that he wasn't going to tell anyone? Oh, that's right. Because he's Jace Herondale. It's what he does.

Jace leans into me and his lips are on mine. He tastes like sugar and whipped cream and that alone paints a picture in my head. I make the slightest whimpering noise in the back of my throat, giving him the opportunity to plunge his tongue into my mouth. I don't know why I thought the kisses wouldn't be amazing, this is like heaven washed over me.

My arms came around from his chest, tangling into his locks. Inadvertently pulling him further down. My mind was still playing catch up with the fact that I was making out with Jace Herondale on my bed, while his hands were squeezing my thighs higher unto him.

His hardness brushes my heat and I break our kiss with a less than ladylike groan. Jace continues to move his hips in an agonizing pace against me. Not knowing what came over me I tighten my legs around him and rise up slightly to meet him, causing a hoarse gasp of approval from Jace. That only spurs me on, the buttons on his shirt becoming more and more offensive by the second. I pull his head away from my neck for a searing kiss, this time taking the lead and running my tongue inside the minty wetness of his mouth.

The shirt opens with a hard tug from my hands in opposite directions. The new terrain occupies my hands, hard planes and molten warmth. Jace shudders when my fingers brush the littering of fine hairs underneath his naval.

Running my fingers on the metal belt buckle I inhale his lips and take the dive. On a more than a metaphorical level. My hand linger on the waistband of his boxers but before I can do what my hands are begging me to do, Jace inches away from me. I immediately feel embarrassment and hurt cloud my lust. When I think he's going to tell me to get lost he copies my movements and rips my dress open.

With a breathy sigh I watch Jace as he studies me. I'm immensely thankful that Izzy talked me into something sexier than my regular boyshorts and plain bra. Without giving myself another moment to talk myself out of it I delve deeper into his pants. The velvety smooth skin meets my fingers and I'm intimidated by sheer length. Turns out locker room talk isn't as false as I thought.

I've given my share of blowjobs and handjobs but not with the guys pants and underwear still on. But I couldn't wait enough to take them off. I wrap my hand around him and squeeze lightly, pressing my thumb to the top of his head. "Oh, _God_, Clary. Keep doing that."

Jaces curls tickle my jaw as he bites a sensitive area under my ear. I'll probably be embarrassed about the noises we are making later but right now they just make it better. His rough hands grip my breasts, kneading them greedily.

"Fuck. Stop." My hand freezes on his length as he takes deep breaths. "I want to be inside you when I come. And I _will_ be inside you."

"All talk...What are you waiting for anyways? A handwritten invitation?" Jace held my eyes in place and a very boyish grin came over his features. Just as he began taking his pants off, a voice cut through the moment.

"Clary? Are you in ther?"

~o.O.o~

_**Jace P.O.V.**_

I begged for her to let me have sex with her, that's new. She's seems so fragile underneath me, her legs are velvety smooth and I can't help but run my fingers along her skin. I lift her knee over my hip and grind against her again, I can see the struggle not to groan on her face, Isabelle is still outside the door and I know I should keep Clary from drawing attention to us but she's irresistible. Clary bites her lip and before I can think my next move through I take her lip between my teeth and suck on it lightly. Her eyes widen at the contact, she tastes like cheesecake.

I hear Isabelle's heels slam against the hardwood floors of the hallway. I release her reddened lip and use my elbows to lift my weight off of her. I can still feel her every inch pressed against me. I'm staring down at her and I need to touch her. Clary has always just been Jonathan's sister but now she's _Clary_.

Giving amazing handjobs and uses a fantastic amount of tongue, Clary.

"Get off." What? "Jace, please get off me." I peel our sweat soaked bodies apart slowly, I want to preserve as much of her warmth as I can. The second she has enough space to get up she jumps off the bed, pushing past me. Fastening the loose buttons, Clary grabs a black coat off the door rack and wraps it around herself. "I just- I'm sorry- I have to get out of here." She kicks off her heels and pulls a pair of jeans, a long sleeved sweater, and a pair of leather boots.

She takes a step towards me, then another back, she turns around and speeds off to the bathroom. I stare at the door. What do I say when she comes out? Apparently I don't have to say anything because when she comes out she's just as nervous and stressed. Clary sweeps keys off the nightstand and stares down at her fingers as she plays with the keys. I haven't moved for the past twenty minutes but Clary has done enough fidgeting for the both of us. Not the kind I wanted to do tonight.

"Um, thanks- I mean, well, I'm saying... God, nevermind. We've both had too much alcohol tonight and I've just got to get out of here before we do something stupid." Clary fumbles with her phone. I open my mouth so try and convince her to stay but before I have the chance she speeds towards the door and slams it on her way out.

"Clary!"

~o.O.o~

_**Clary P.O.V.**_

What happened to me in there? One minute I was ready to rip his clothes off, not just ready but already half done, and when Izzy knocked on the door it was like I just snapped out of the spell I was under. When I ran out and he just stared at me, it was like a molten ball of lead in the pit of my stomach. I swing my leg over my bike. It's almost midnight and I don't know where I'm going, I just know that I have to get away from the mortification I'm feeling right now. I know that the next time I see Jace he's going to be smug and make fun of me. I can't believe I ever considered having sex with that pig.

It's getting colder by the minute, the trees and cars blur together into an array of speeding colors. My hands are shaking as I grip the handles harder, I wish I took my gloves when I ran away from my problems. Snowflakes splatter against my helmet and I know I should turn back. If it starts storming I'll have trouble getting home and if mom finds out she'll have my head on a silver platter. I don't know how long I drive down road after road but after what seems like hours I pull off to the side of the street.

There aren't any buildings or signs for me to follow and the snow has increased. I pull my phone out of my back pocket and pull up the map app. And the fantastic news is that, I'm lost and I don't have reception or an internet connection. How the hell am I supposed to get home?

Someone will try to find me, right? I mean mom and dad will notice if I don't come home when Jonathan does, won't they? I just realized he's going home on Tuesday, I'm going to die out here. Hopefully hypothermia will get me before the starvation, dehydration, wild animals, or axe murderers that certainly live in these deserted parts. My jacket isn't doing the best job at keeping me warm, I pull my sweater's sleeves around my chilled fingers. Maybe if I circle the perimeter I can find my bearings, get a feel of the area. I mount my bike and start the engine. Nothing.

There's something wrong with my baby's engine. Jonathan must have touched something on her when he was stealing her tires and ever since then she's been a ticking timebomb. I check her parts every week, changed the faulty ones when needed, but with the party and seduction I completely forgot. I feel like such an idiot, for more than one reason.

"Well, what the hell do I do now?" I muse out loud. I can't wait around for the rest of the weekend for someone to find me and take me home, or kill me and bury my body where no one will ever find it. Currently, I find option 2 more appealing, at least I would never have to face Jace again. See, there is an upside to dying. I try the engine again and all I get is clicking. Jonathan is going to get me killed, I always knew he wanted to be an only child again.

I don't want to die out here and the only way to keep myself from freezing to death is to move. My will power has to be strong enough to find my way home or at least some civilization nearby. My bike is heavy enough to lag my speed but there is no way in hell that I'm going to leave her behind. My hands coil around the handle bars and I begin to push. The snow has piled onto a thick carpet, my feet sink completely. If it keeps coming down like this I'll be buried to the knees in less than an hour.

Twenty-seven minutes later the snow brushes against my knee caps. At least the downpour rate has slowed but so has my walking speed. It's taking more and more effort to move the bike through. I don't know how far I've made it but I'm hoping that I'll see something, anything, soon. The sky is littered with shining stars and the moonlight has lit the road ahead so that I don't have to waste the phone battery too much. Everytime I hear a twig snap or leaves crunching I feel my skin crawl and every hair on my body stands on edge, like I've been electrocuted.

The longer I walk the further away everything seems, the moonlight fades away and purple and pink hues crack the dark sky. The cool metal bites into my bare skin, I readjust my grip. My mouth feels like sandpaper, what I wouldn't give for some tea to sooth my throat. My body is chilled to the bone and I shiver uncontrollably. I draw shallow breaths rapidly trying to warm myself. I'm sweating bullets and yet I can't get myself to warm up, I open my helmet and use my breath to try and warm my hands.

The bike makes it harder to move through the ice and snow, digging into the latter and sliding on the former. My movements are ragged and my muscles stiff. I don't know how much longer I can go on. I swear I've been down this path already. I feel my muscles spasm and shake from the gusts of wind that rock my body. If I hadn't been stupid enough to run away from Jace I wouldn't be in this mess. If I had kicked him out instead of running away then maybe I wouldn't be in this situation, where I can feel my blood freezing in my veins.

Ice clung to my lashes as I slammed my hand down, closing the helmet. I lick my swollen and chapped lips. Less than two hours ago I was in Jace's body heat, I could smell his chocolatey breath and his delicate touches clouded my mind and intoxicated my senses and now I'm in the middle of nowhere, possibly miles away from any life. I get it, karma, I'm a bad person for almost having sex with Jace but couldn't I have just been run over by a car instead of this slow and painful death? I swear sometimes it's like the world and everyone on it is plotting to kill me, turns out now that the almighty doesn't like being left out of that bandwagon.

The temperature is dropping rapidly around me. The frigid air that my lungs are able to inhale burn on the way down and I don't think that's a good sign in any case. As much as I hate admitting it, I think I'm going to die out here and that scares me. How entertaining this would be to Jonathan, then he could take great comfort knowing I died afraid and alone. I hope my brother won't be so cold hearted when they find my dead body on the side of the road.

The last thing I ate before getting stranded was lunch, yesterday, and I just emptied that against a tree. My insides feel like they're on fire but the fact that I swear I just saw a yeti is telling me to keep my clothes on. The snow has stopped and I'm trying to be an optimist, hopefully this means it will get easier to walk home. Although I have no idea where home is, whether or not I'm walking in the right direction, or if the shadow behind me is a murderer or a branch. And if I'm being honest my need to go to the bathroom is only getting bigger.

~o.O.o~

My phone died about an hour ago so time is moving at a slower pace than I am. I don't know how long it's been since I left Jace alone but I know that if no one's found me or even noticed I'm gone in a few hours there won't be anything left for them to find. I know that in these types of situations you aren't supposed to loose hope and all that bullshit but when you can barely feel your appendages, your fingers are turning blue, and you haven't seen a living soul for the past couple of hours it's hard not to.

I'm not surprised that Jace hasn't come looking for me and I know Jonathan and I aren't on the best terms but he's my brother shouldn't he have come to help me? At least I expected Isabelle and Simon to tear through the foundation of the city to find me. I know I wouldn't stop looking for either of them if they were lost.

Then I think of the party and the noise and people, the possibility that they simply think I'm upstairs getting it on with Jace. Jace who has probably already taken care of his stiffy with someone else. I roll my eyes at my train of thought.

My feet stumble over a lump of ice before I realize it's a large stone buried in snow my shoe slides over the edge and I fall forward. I hold out my arms to stop any major injury from happening, the last thing I need now is a concussion to go with my frostbite. I sink into the white pile of death, after this experience I will never build another snowman, if I'm still alive. My head hurts above my right eye and when I sweep my hand over my brow it comes away in a sheen of red with bits of fiberglass. My heart is palpitating in my chest.

It's just a little blood, I'll be fine as soon as I find someway to get to the hospital. _Yeah and while the magic fairy is at it maybe she can make me a ham sandwich, get your head out of your ass, Jesus Clary._ Kicking my tires to burst the icicles makes it easier to travel. I feel stupid, I should have left my bike a long time ago but I just didn't have the heart. It was the one thing in my life that I've worked hard to get, the only thing that legally belongs to me. Maybe I would have made it to a store or something already but the extra weight of the bike is slowing me down.

I feel my stomach churning, in one quick sweep I rip the helmet off, my ridiculous curls bobbing like apples in water on my shoulders. I press my hands and knees into the rich snow as I empty the acids from my stomach. For the first time in the past couple of hours I'm glad to have the numbing effect of the snow. I stay hunched over for a few moments, trying to get my rapid breathing under control. Before standing on my shaking legs I wipe the excess off my chin with my already foul smelling sleeve.

What I wouldn't give for a hot cup of tea and a fuzzy blanket, one can only dream. I think my mind's playing tricks on me when I swear I'm smelling cinnamon wafting through the air. I shake my head trying to clear it from the certain hallucinations. I can see smoke coming from a chimney near by. This can't possibly be real, can it?

_Santa?_

In my line of sight I see a bright peach colored building, the closer I get to the small house I notice the bakery sign. Other, bigger, buildings begin to form in my peripheral vision. From where I'm freezing in the snow I can see a bank in the distance and a few townhouses. This doesn't look like my vacation home neighborhood because that's on a remote piece of land, miles away from any towns or New York for that matter. By the looks of it this is a small city somewhere around New York. How far did I walk last night?

When my feet hit the cracked asphalt I feel steadier, like I'm taking my first step on solid ground. The air is warmer around me and the smell of freshly baked cookies is making me saliva and sadly enough, makes me want to throw up. I perch the bike next to the glass door and lean heavily on the wall. I guess the bike was carrying me just as much as I was dragging her along. My hands shake as I use them to maneuver my way to the entrance.

Tossing my useless helmet away from me I take a generous step forward.

Heat blasts above me and I rock gently on my heels. An elderly woman stands behind the counter, icing a sugar cookie in soft green frosting. She glances in my direction with a bright smile I don't know what she see's but her smile drops from her face instantaneously, she rounds the display case and rushes me. I'm stabilizing myself on the front window cake case but that doesn't last long as my feet slide underneath me. The woman's plump arms catch me before my head hits the ground. I blink back my fogging vision but the more my eyes try to wash away the blurring the worse it gets.

"Hold on, sweetie, an ambulance is on it's way. Hold on…" Her grey hair is in a tight bun at the base of her neck, several tendrils frame her face loosely. Her face shift between the old womans and my friends. "...Hold on." Is this what they mean when they say your whole life flashed before your eyes? Isabelle, Simon, Jonathan, even Jace gets a guest appearance, what strikes me as strange is that my parents never really pop up in my pre-death reality show.

Then again they missed everything else so why not this too?

* * *

_**Hey, this is a 'please review/favorite/follow because I have school tomorrow and I want to die' chapter.**_

_**I need the support, okay?**_

_**XOXO**_


	4. Calling NYPD, I Need Help

Chapter 4

Calling NYPD, I Need Help

Jace P.O.V.

~o.O.o~

Whatever pumps that black sludge through Jonathan's veins, it shows no feeling towards the fact that his little sister left over seven hours ago and still hasn't come back or returned any of my phone calls. I understand if she doesn't want to talk to me but Iz and ratboy called and texted her too, we got no answer. I'm getting worried, I even did a few passes around the house to see if I could find her. At first I thought she just locked herself in another room and hid from me but when Iz said that she couldn't find her bike, the dread set temperature outside is dropping severely and if she's gotten lost and anything happens to her, if she even gets a scratch on her, it would be my fault.

I took things too far, I was so wrapped up in trying to make her squirm that I made her leave. No, leave isn't the right word, abandon ship is more accurate. I feel so incredibly guilty. I swear, when I find her, and I will find her, I'm not letting her out of my sight ever again. My fingers pull at the roots of my hair, my feet pacing the area of the bedroom where I'd last seen Clary. My feelings range from anger that she's gone to guilt that it's my own stupid fault. What's worse is that I can't stop the replay of images.

Isabelle sits on the floor, her hands swiping at the flat buttons on her phone. After she'd walked in here and saw the messy bed she'd refused to even touch it, let alone sit on it. Izzy wouldn't believe that we hadn't actually done anything, I don't even know if we would have gotten anywhere. Isabelle groans and drops the phone in her lap. "You're going to pace a hole in the goddamn ground. Sit down."

"She's out there completely alone. You are supposed to be her best friends and you're both so calm and I just don't understand how." Simon pushes away from the wall next to the bathroom door and walks briskly to stand in front of me.

"Iz and I are just as worried as you are, more even, because the way I see it, it's your fault she's gone. You did something to her that scared her and now you're just guilty because if anything happens to her you won't be able to party with a clean conscience." My fists tighten at my sides and I resist the urge to yell back at him. He doesn't know anything, he couldn't feel the horrible weight that was tearing out my insides.

"Listen, Lewis, if you think I'm any less worried about her, you're sadly mistaken. I've known her since she was born, I've watched her scrape her knees, break her bones, and cry after breakups. How do you think I feel knowing that I'm responsible that she's gone? Because I went to far. I couldn't stop." My hands pulse with the anger I feel at myself. I glance between Izzy and Simon, searching their faces for the truth we all knew. "It _is_ my fault."

I slide my phone off the dresser and redial Clary's number. It rings several times before I get her voicemail _again_, I curse at the phone before leaving her a message. "Clary, I'm really worried about you. I know you probably don't want to talk to me right now but please, please call me back or answer. Anything to just let us know you're alright."

Isabelle stares at me as I dial again and again, hoping that she answers this time. Simon has a curious expression on his face and I don't bother trying to understand what it means. Honestly, right now, all I care about is making sure she's okay. I wouldn't blame her if she never spoke to me again, if she never even glanced in my direction again it would be worth it as long as she's okay.

"Please, please, please." I mutter as the phone continues to ring. My mind reeling with horrible images of things that could have happened to her. My heart is about to leap into my throat when my phone began ringing. I can't explain the weightlessness I felt when I read her name on the screen. "Clary?" My smile fades as I hear the voice on the other end. It wasn't Clary's.

~o.O.o~

My fingers sting and there's a pinch in my inner elbow. I gingerly lift my fingers individually and tap them against my thigh. Groaning, I peel my eyelids open, my vision is blurry and I can't focus on anything around me. There's a figure moving in the corner of the room and it was coming closer to me. Attempting to move away didn't work out so well, there was something blocking my way out. I don't know why but I want to scream and cry, maybe even throw something.

"Clary. Shh, it's okay." The sides of the shadow began to sharpen and form a man shape. Squinting my eyes I still can't make out the person. My emotions are unchecked as large elephant tears roll down my face and I gulp down much needed air. It stung and burned it's way down my throat, coincidentally, making me cry harder.

A warmth spreads up my arms and I feel something wiping at my cheeks. It's almost comforting and my ragged breathing levels out. A familiar sweet scent wafts through my personal space, I don't know where I recognize it from but it calms me.

"What happened Clary? What did I make you do?" I don't know if the man wanted an answer and even if I knew, I don't think I could talk. I liked the fuzzy feeling of the small circles he was rubbing into my upper arms gave me. I don't know how I knew this man, I don't know anything right now.

~o.O.o~

She looks horrible. Her pale skin is patched with hues of dark blue and purple. Each crevice of the room is bare, like she's alone, like no one cares about her. Isabelle has been pacing in the waiting room ever since we got here, she's been trying to reach out to Clary's parents. I had asked her to come in with me but Iz stonewalled me. After a long, drawn out, conversation with Izzy, to which I was not invited to, Ratboy had gone to Clary's favorite restaurant to pick up her favorite food.

Since I found out where she is, I hadn't left her side. I'm scared that if I look away she'll disappear again and I don't know if I can handle that a second time around. I want to hold her hand so when she wakes up I'm there for her but I don't want to freak her out. Clary looks so frail, her skin paper thin, like it would rip at the slightest touch of my fingers.

Clary stirs from her sleep and I'm instantly alert and out of my seat. Her fingers twitching lightly. Excitement bubbles up in my chest when she groans and her eyes opened ever so slightly in painful slits. I move from the corner chair closer to her medical bed, Clary's face contorts into panic and she scrambles back.

"Clary. Shh, it's okay." Her eyes fly over me, studying my features. It makes my chest ache when her blued fingers cover her lips and she begins to cry and wipe frantically at her face. My abdomen contracts and I can't stop the overwhelming feeling of pain that radiates through me. This is my fault, she's in the hospital with pneumonia because she ran away from me. Guilt rushes me and I gingerly step closer to the bland bed.

She's shivering and I just want to wrap her in my arms and make sure she's safe. I'm subconsciously running my hands up and down her arms, trying to transfer any possible body heat to her. "What happened Clary? What did I make you do?" I don't expect an answer, I'm talking more to myself than her.

Her eyes wash over me, confusion laced in every part of her. Why did I have to take things too far? Why did I have to push her into something she was, clearly, uncomfortable with? What kind of a person am I?

"I'm so sorry, Clary. I'm so sorry." Sobs racked her body, she looked so terrified. I did this to her. I need to leave, she obviously doesn't want me here. My warm hands rest on her shaking ones and I don't want to leave her, I don't want to leave her in this place alone. I take a deep breath and stand on my unsteady legs. "This is all because of me."

I'm numb as I stagger back to the waiting room, Simon and Isabelle are having another hushed conversation that I'm unspokenly not allowed to join. I have the sneaking suspicion that it's about me, I clear my throat and they jump a foot apart.

"She's awake." They look thrilled at the news. "You might want to get a nurse, she's livid." Simon and Isabelle exchange another mysterious look, loaded with hidden meaning.

Izzy jogged quickly to the nearest nurse and together they made their way to Clary's room. Simon snaggs a light brown bag along with his hoodie. He stops in front of her door, waiting from the nurse to finish speaking to Isabelle. "Is Clary angry with you?" He waits for me to answer but all I can manage is a nod. Simon huffs out a breathy laugh and walks into the room. I swear I could hear him whisper, "No surprise there," before walking into the room.

"I'm sure she would be angry if she was able to stop crying and realize what happened." I don't know who I was talking to but it was like I was trying to make myself feel worse than I already did. My feet carried me to the nearest window, I gaze out at the piling snow, I imagine what she felt like. How it felt for the blood in her delicate fingers and toes to freeze and all feeling to disappear from her small body. My hands grip the railing, I'm heavily reliant on the metal bar to hold me up.

"It's not your fault, you know." My body slowly turns around to face the voice that spoke. An elderly woman stood by Clary's door, her arms encasing her small frame. "The poor girl came into my store, freezing, she was mumbling." The frail woman explained as she began to limp her way to him, her hands trembling. "Are you Simon, Jonathan, or Jace?"

"Jace, ma'am. Clary's my…" I didn't know what to call her. My friend? My best friends sister? My minx? "Um, friend." I settle on friend, it's vague enough that it shouldn't be hard to accept that we could be friends, because I don't know what we are anymore.

"I'm old, not dead, honey. You can call her your girlfriend, I won't have a stroke just because two young people are in love without being married." She chuckled and I felt a little lighter than before, but I couldn't forgive myself until I could walk into her room without having to fall on my hands and knees in front of her to get a word out. I can feel how much she hates me, how she's afraid of me, she can't bare to look at me without crying and screaming. The old woman's dark eyes follow my movement as I incline forward and rest my elbows against my knees and my face in my rough hands. She rummages through her burgundy purse, her hand emerges with a copper glint. "A penny for your thoughts, dear?"

She reaches out her penny-clad hand towards me, I pull my hand away from my emotionally desolate face and open my palm to her. She drops the heated coin into my hand. The look she gave me said she was waiting for me to tell her what was tormenting me. "I'm afraid for her." The woman closed her bag and pulled it snuggly to her chest. "I know she's safe here but I can't stop this feeling, it's like I can't breath. You say it's not my fault but you're wrong."

"Dear, you don't live as long as I have without seeing and hearing things that should never see the light of day. Trust me when I tell you, that girl is terrified. She can't understand what's happening, she nearly froze to death out there and she has every right to blame whoever she damn well pleases. However, you also must know that when she thought she was dying, she saw her life, the people that were important to her. You were there. She won't blame you." I was slightly dazed at the woman's knowledge on the subject.

"Who are you?" I hadn't meant to wonder that outloud but the woman simply turned her head and released a hardy laugh.

"I'm the shopkeeper, Mrs. Wayland, who just happens to rescue beautiful maidens from danger." I manage a sincere laugh, but the truth is, Clary wouldn't have needed saving if I hadn't been a totally sex-crazed guy and forced her to drive off in an upcoming snowstorm to get away from me. "Why don't you go and see her? I'm sure she'll be more accommodating towards you, now that's she's fully awake."

I was going to tell her not to worry, that I'd see her when Clary felt like she needed to yell at me, but she was right. I needed to make sure Clary was okay, that I hadn't been dreaming the whole ordeal. Saying I was scared to go in there again, was an understatement. If I had a dozen, trained Navy Seals with me, I would still be scared. If Clary was blaming me I couldn't deny it was true- but she had to know how sorry I am, how I wish it was me in that hospital bed right now.

"Thank you for everything you did for her. I honestly can't thank you enough. If you hadn't helped her and something had happened..." I couldn't finish the thought, because quite frankly thinking of Clary frozen to death on the side of the road, filled me with a blinding fear and rage at myself. "If something had happened to her, I would never have forgiven myself." Mrs. Wayland watched me with a knowing stare and I knew she could see right through my tough guy exterior. Inside I was pudding, completely susceptible and vulnerable to anything.

I rise on my feet, clenching my hands into tight fists to keep them from shaking. I can't say that I'm surprised that it seemed like an hour to get from the uncomfortable waiting room chair to the white door that led to Clary, in reality it was a few seconds at the most. I feel like I've becomes obsessed with her wellbeing, like if she were still missing I would be out there right now, digging her out with my bare hands. This probably isn't the healthiest mindset to be in but it's not as if I could stop my, obviously, developing psychosis.

Maybe it was because of the guilt that was tearing me from the inside out but that couldn't possibly explain the need to wrap her up in a hundred blankets, throw her over my shoulder, and carry her back to my house to nurse her back to health. Without giving myself the chance to run away from the door, cursing myself into oblivion, I quickly turned the doorknob and swung the door open. I hadn't meant for it to practically fly off its hinges and scare everyone inside half to death, but at least I got their attention.

Simon was glaring at me in an unimpressive manner while Isabelle huffed out a breath from beneath Clary's hair. I doubted Izzy had let go of Clary since she managed to latch on to her, like a leach. I cleared my throat, as if the door slamming against the wall a few seconds ago hadn't made my presence crystal clear. Clary still hadn't looked at me and although I know why and completely understand, I try to convince myself it's only because Isabelle is taller than her and I'm hidden behind her. How stupid can a guy force himself to be?

"Can I have the room for a moment?" I asked no one in particular, Simon looked ready to argue with me, mouth opened, but Isabelle sent him a look that made him reconsider his choice. After Izzy and Ratatouille left, it was just Clary and I. She wouldn't make eye contact with me, didn't even bother glancing in my direction. I can't say I was surprised but it didn't sting any less. "How are you feeling?"

"Better." Clary intertwined her fingers, twisting them around the bed sheet. "My body is still colder than Antarctica." I clear my lungs of the guilt tainted oxygen. There was a closet in the corner of the room, I knew from experience that it was full of gowns and blankets. Taking two large steps towards it I crack it open and pull out a warmed throw. I don't miss the fact that Clary flinches as I swung the scratchy material over her.

"You thought I would hit you?" I couldn't believe she would ever think that.

"I didn't think you would, I just don't want you to look me when I'm like this." When she looked up at me I took in a breath. Her face seemed so hallow, her eyes swallowed by the greyed skin around them, her lips were blued and I couldn't breath. She looked so scared. "Please." Clary turned her face away and for the first time since I walked in I realized why she wouldn't look at me. She thought she was disgusting, she didn't want anyone looking at her when she was like this, weak.

"Why don't you want me to look at you?" I wanted her to feel comfortable around me. I wanted her to be able to look at me and not want to kill me. I just didn't understand why a strong person, like her, would be so ashamed to be seen like this.

"Are you honestly asking me that?" She turned her head sharply towards me. "Look at me, I'm practically a walking corpse."

* * *

**This one is for Lynn.**

**Disclaimer- I do not own the Mortal Instruments but I do own all my story plots so please don't repost as your own. It's rude and just shows your lack of creativity.**

**Also, I'm fixing my instagram theme so go look at my effort.**

** marauders_intrument**

**Story time-**

**There's a stomach bug going around my school (I got it), I got allergies (FOR THE FIRST TIME IN MY LIFE) and I'm on my *cough* monthly. I want to die...**

**This is also the last updated chapter, after this it's all new and _improved-ish._**


	5. Psychology or Just Bull?

_**Chapter 5**_

_**Psychology or Just Bull?**_

_**Clary P.O.V.**_

I wanted them to stop.

To stop looking at me like I was a broken toy.

Like I needed them to bring me back to life with their false concern.

I wanted them to go away. To leave me alone with my thoughts.

I couldn't stand them looking at me, their eyes riddled with guilt as they bore into me. They think it's their fault that I was out there, but it's not. At least not entirely. I know that not very deep down they know that too but they want to keep up the charade because they think compassion makes them better people. It doesn't. Mom and Dad are sitting quietly by my bedside, like normal parents, periodically checking their phones for a reason to leave. Which hasn't come yet.

After Jace saw me he couldn't get out of the room fast enough, he was probably hiding out in a bathroom somewhere, throwing up. My skin looked hollow, grey, when I saw it. My cheekbones overly sharp and my eyes a piercing contrast to my paling flesh. I looked at myself once, in the bathroom mirror and I couldn't imagine how one night in the cold could make me look so sickening.

Isabelle and Simon had wanted to stay with me at the hospital all night but I wouldn't let them. Just because I'm stuck here doesn't mean they should be too. Not that my protests had stopped them from spending everyday after school here.

They talked about what happened in the halls during missed classes or the big break up that everyone on academic property was talking about that week, I knew they were trying to keep me in the loop but it felt like watching a tv show I wasn't invested in at the moment.

Have you ever dropped a glass or plate and right before it hits the ground everything freezes? It's like time stops and your thoughts are running a hundred miles an hour, but every moment before the plate shatters on the ground is a standstill. It's worst when you believe you can catch it before it hits the ground but you can't. I'm in that moment now, I count down the seconds until Jonathan's shadow reaches my door.

The door creaks open, a warming breeze that smells suspiciously like AXE enters the room. Mom jumps off the chair and Dad looks close to doing the same before he shoots me a glance, and slowly reclines back into the blue material of the uncomfortable seat. He wants to pretend like he cares about my condition too. Jonathan has always been the baby in the family, even though he's older than me, now is no exception. My mom begins fussing and sweeping her delicate hands over his snow dusted shoulders.

"Were you out there long? There's barely any color in your cheeks, honey. You should take better care of yourself." He's a little pale, that's cute. When he almost loses a foot, he can join the club. Pfft pale, get on my level.

I may be a tad bit bitter.

This morning my doctors told my _family_ that visiting hours end at eleven and by the looks of it, my parents are going to take full advantage of the limitations. Jonathan, being Jonathan, showed up ten minutes before everyone is supposed to be booted out.

Don't get me wrong, I'm lucky to have a family and I love them, but sometimes I wonder if they feel the same way about me. Those moments are rare, I know they do, but when my mother begins to gather her coat and purse the doubt builds. I can't help but want to ask them to stay, even though I know they have a long couple of days ahead of them until their next business trip to God knows where. _I'm lucky to have a family, maybe just not_ **mine**.

"Clary, sweetie, do you want us to talk to the nurses and see if we can stay longer?" Dad signs out. I don't want to sound rude, or unappreciative, but his tone makes me feel horrible about even considering asking them to stay.

"No, I'm tired, you should go rest too. I know you have another trip soon." I pretend not to notice how Mom or Dad don't try to argue with me. I let them think that their mutual relief goes unnoticed by me. Can I really blame them for wanting to leave? This place isn't exactly a five star hotel on the coast of Rio, it smells like bleached death, not the most pleasant scent in the world.

There's a moment of blissful tranquility between violence and peace, and even though you know it's going to explode in your face, you still love the time away from everything. That's how I feel about my parents, I'm stuck in that moment between the unavoidable explosion and those perfect brunch dates you see in movies. I know if I asked them to stay, they would, but they wouldn't be happy about it.

I don't ask and they don't offer.

My mother quickly collects her bag and coat, my dad finally lifts himself out of the chair. He quickly leans over me and lightly kisses my forehead before straightening up and placing his hand on the small of my mom's back. She brushes a few strands from my face and smiles down at me. If anyone had seen us now they would look like concerned parents taking care of their sick daughter, but it feels more like compensation for leaving. Like an apology through touch for not caring enough to stay and hold my hand while I try to keep the nightmares away.

While my parents pass Jonathan, he whisper something to them. They look ready to argue but he tilts his head and I could tell that the look meant 'don't'. They reluctantly leave the room, then it's just me and John.

"How are you feeling, Clare Bear?" He moves around the room fluidly, stopping at the edge of my bed. John's hand lightly grips my foot and shakes it as he speaks. "What were you doing out there?"

"I'm okay now, I was bored and went for a ride. My bike froze up." John sits at the edge of the bed, looking me up and down. His brows crease in worry and frustration. Without a hint of hesitation John reaches for my shoulders and pulls me into a tight hug.

My brother and I aren't ones for physical affection. Feeling his warmth tinge at my cool skin and the emotions I've been hiding from reer their way to the surface. Tears burn the edges of my eyes and I blink them back.

"You're lucky that it didn't happen further from the edge of the city. You could have died, Clary." His voice is muffled by my hair but I can still hear the concern running through it. I'm surprised to hear him sound so emotional.

"I'm sorry." I whisper into his shoulder. "I'm really sorry, John." He withdraws from me and places his hands on my face, trapping me close to him. They scratch at my skin but the feel of someone else, my brother, touching me makes me feel loved.

"Don't apologize, I'm just happy you're okay." He kisses my forehead and smiles at me. I may be imagining it but his dark eyes looked like they're watering and that's a first when it comes to Jonathan.

I don't hear the door open but the nurse's squeaky voice rings through the room. "Excuse me, but visiting hours just ended. You need to go sir." John nods and looks back at me, I smile and squeeze his hand, letting him know that it's okay. That I appreciate that he feels something like guilt and worry about my condition.

Jonathan glances back at me several times on his wordless trek to the door.

The next couple of days pass in a blur. Isabelle and Simon are at my door every morning, they stay with me, tell me who dumped who and which overdramatic failing student removed the screws from the history classroom door as revenge. If my body didn't feel like it got run over by a bus I would enjoy missing school more, but thinking about the missed homework and the rumors spreading around the whole school about where she was and why.

On the day of my release they were there with clean clothes and a suitcase for whatever personal belongings I had in my hospital room. Other friends stopped by and tell me to get better soon, they tell me I'm missing a hilarious teacher rivalry at school that involves missing pens. I can't say that I missed my house, or the drama at school, but something I definitely missed was my friends. Jonathan stopped by one other time, along with his posse of douches.

I didn't see him then but I knew Jace was there, in the waiting room, avoiding me. It sounded stupid when I thought about it later, but I miss his warmth. Even though I've known Jace for years and he's one of the most annoying people in my life, probably the entire earth, but when we were in my room and he was so close to me, it was like my veins were live wires. He felt like a bonfire in a winter storm.

"Am I interrupting anything?" Isabelle stares at me knowingly. I look down at my fidgeting fingers, I've been folding down the same part of the blanket for lord knows how long.

"I was just wondering how much work I have to make up in my classes." The lie slips easily, although I don't know why. There's nothing wrong with me thinking about a boy but this is _Jace_, Jace who I don't feel anything for. At least not anything good.

"Mhm, okay. The teachers will probably give you a break. I mean, you did almost freeze to death." Iz said it easily, humorously, but I could hear the bitter tone underneath. I know running out of the room was stupid but how was I supposed to know that my bike would decide it was the perfect time to fuck me over?

"I'm sorry I scared you, Izzy. I really am." Relaxing my hands at my sides I turn to face her fully. I do my best not to look as pitiful as I feel when I look at her. Even though I know I look overly pale and not an entire cosmetics aisle can fix the hollowness in my cheeks and eyes. Knowing Isabelle, she'll try to use her extensive makeup skills anyways before school Monday.

"What the hell happened?" Isabelle propped up the backpack against the pillows with a huff. "We were scared out of our minds. Everyone was. I never thought I'd say this, but Jace was even worried about you. That's when you know something's seriously up." Her arms were crossed over her chest tightly. Isabelle always knew when I was trying to hide something, it could be anything, from eating the last bagel bite to killing a man. My best friend knew.

I know there's no point in continuing the charade. I give it up. Sitting down at the corner of the bed, I look down at my hands. Isabelle knelt down in front of me, gently prying my hands apart and holding them in hers. "Please talk to me, Clary."

"You know how I went upstairs with Jace because we thought it would be funny to screw around with him for once?" Izzy nods, silently encouraging me to continue talking. "At first it was, funny I mean, how shocked he was that it was me. It became a lot less funnier when he was hovering above me and pressing himself into me."

"Clary, are you saying he was about to…?" Iz couldn't finish the sentence and I knew why. It was a horrible thing to even think about. She looked enraged and I knew that if I didn't quickly reassure her Jace would have a very short lifespan.

"God, no. Izzy, he would never hurt anyone like that. It felt, uh kinda, good. It felt right, like him being between my legs was a normal thing. It freaked me out and I thought that if I took a couple laps around the block it could clear my head." I felt stupid even saying it out loud. I mean, yes, Jace is a walking wet dream and yes, I would be lying if I said I hadn't had one of him.

"You feel guilty because you found a guy hot? Maybe you got a little comfortable with him, so what? I will not be the only person to tell you this, if I am I'll repeat myself and we can pretend, but having fun with a guy isn't a crime. Even one as big of a tool as Jace." Isabelle didn't look disappointed and maybe it makes me insecure to think that she would have been.

"Are you encouraging me to have sex with Jace?" Isabelle rolled her eyes, her long eyelashes brushing the bases of her dark eyebrows. Pushing herself up from the ground, Iz crosses her arms and looks down at me.

"In a way, I suppose I am. If you're attracted to him, screw his brains out, you aren't a nun. Okay, I know it sounds like I'm pimping you out but Clary you've known him for years, it's not like he's some stranger you met in a bar." Isabelle swings the now closed backpack over her shoulder.

"Honestly, I think I'd prefer the bar." I murmur as Isabelle and I exit the room that's been suffocating me.

~o.O.o~

"Okay, you're saying that if I sleep with Jace I'll stop feeling like I'm back to freezing to death every time I ride my bike. How does that work?" I turn in my desk chair to glare at Isabelle and Maia. They look at each other and it makes me feel skeptical.

Maia leans further into the mountain of pillows on my bed. "Basically, you ran from the party because you were about to have sex with Jace, right?" I nod. "Then you almost froze to death because of it. I'm saying that maybe it's psychological, that maybe if you finish what you started with him then you won't feel like death is chasing you every time you're on your bike."

"Maia, sweetie, that's the single worst idea that has been said inside these walls. Be aware, this is the same room where Isabelle said a unicorn themed bar would be the best thing in New York."

"Hey! I still think that would be awesome."

"Clary, just think about it, okay?" Maia and Isabelle watch me carefully, pleading with their eyes. What is their deal?

"Fine. I'll think about it." I can tell they're resisting the urge to squeal.

There's a soft flutter of movement from the rest of the apartment-like space that I share with my brother. The three of us look at each other questioningly. John wasn't supposed to be home this weekend, he mentioned something about an away game.

"Clary? You here?" My brother shouts, but before I can respond we hear other voices talking in different octaves. All the yelling fades to the other side of our place. Maia and Iz stare at me like I should know why my brother and his friends are crashing our girls night in. I shrug my shoulders at them.

"Go see what your douchecanoe of a brother is doing home early."

"Hey, since my _accident_," The three of us, plus Simon and Jonathan, had begun to call my popsicle turning episode- the _accident_ because it made us feel better about my hospital stay and following medical issues. "John has been very attentive."

"That's just a fancy word for obsessively guilty." I hopped off the bed and made my way to the door leading into the foyer.

"Shut up, Maia."

I peeked out through the thin crack in the door, John's door was closed and the majority of the noise was coming from behind the wooden surface. I glance at Maia and Iz and know they want me to go out there.

I slip silently into the open space and shut the door behind me, Iz and Maia are talking in low voices about some new movie we should see. I look around, finding no one I head towards my brothers door. A low clicking sound comes from the kitchenette and I hope that John is getting his loser friends drinks so I don't have to awkwardly ask him why he's home while they all stare.

I turn the corner into the tiled area when I run into a pair of outstretched hands. Startled I quickly right myself and look up at the boy who still hadn't released my upper arms, who was looking down at me with a broad smile and I opened my mouth to ask him to let me go.

And that's when it happens.

An earthquake rocks the floor, my body vibrates and I feel the house shake and crack.

Or the earth is silent, there isn't ground shattering underneath me, maybe it's the feel of his lips meeting mine. The tightness of his grip as his rough mouth moves against my immobile one.

Slowly, as if I'm afraid he'll disappear if I move too quickly, I respond to his touch. I run my fingers through his soft hair and I hold myself higher by the tips of my toes. The softness of the initial kiss begins to vanish once he realizes what's happening. His hands move to my waist and pull me closer to his demanding body but I don't fight it. Because for a moment I forget that my brother and his other friends are a door away. I forget that my best friends are too.

I forget that I'm kissing my brother's best friend.

And I melt into him.

* * *

_**Yesterday was my birthday! I'm getting another year older and I've started seeing some things in perspective- like my college plan. Anyways, no more future stuff, and this is an I love you all and this is my gift to you chapter! I hope you enjoy it and please leave a review. I'm still thinking about which stories I should put on hiatus for a while but I'm updating all my stories as a Happy Birthday to Me.**_

_**I just came back home from Chicago because my mom just got remarried- nine hours in a bloody car. I hurt.**_


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